Yuusuke and the Yakuza
by nightwalker3
Summary: For once they were in trouble and it wasn't Yuusuke's fault. Well, not exactly.


**Disclaimer: **Still Yoshihiro Togashi's. And he's still blissfully unaware of me and my fics.

**Notes:** Ummm, minor language and very minor language. I mean, for a story with Yuusuke "potty mouth" Urameshi, it's rather tame.

Set during the beginning of the series, after Rescue Yukina and right before the Dark Tournament.

* * *

**Yuusuke and the Yakuza **

* * *

Katsunada Koichi prided himself on being stolid. He was not easily rattled and in fact he often practiced keeping a straight face so he could maintain an air of aloofness. In the business, he was fast earning a reputation for being unshakable, something that his bosses were beginning to notice. No, he was, all around, a calm and steady bastion of unwavering composure.

Who was about to lose his temper in a decidedly unprofessional way.

The empty house he had appropriated for this meeting was dim and shadowy, the windows covered with blankets to prevent any passers-by from casually glancing inside. Even so, it was bright enough for him to see the two young men - boys, he revised almost immediately, thirteen maybe - tied to two wooden chairs and seated on opposite sides of the room, their backs to the walls and facing each other across the empty space. They both wore school uniforms, though from different schools, and he noticed that someone had removed their shoes. The boy on the left, his back against the wall next to a window, was so big that at first glance Katsunada had thought him to be in high school. It was difficult to judge the boy's height, sitting down as he was, but Katsunada thought the boy must have had at least a few inches on him. The boy on the right looked like a pimp, his hair slicked back and dark shades perched so far down the end of his nose that they seemed in danger of falling off. What Katsunada mostly noticed was how loudly they were shouting.

"What is going on here?" Katsunada asked quietly. Maybe someone would have answered him if the Pimp Kid hadn't chosen that exact moment to holler, "This is all your fault, you bastard!"

"_My _fault!" The taller kid's voice hit a pitch that most women couldn't manage and Katsunada grimaced slightly. That sounded like it had to hurt. "You son of a bitch! How is this my fault? This is all your fault!"

"You're the _gangbanger_—"

"You're the criminal!"

Pimp Kid looked genuinely put out by that, jutting out his lower lip in a sulky pout. "I am _not_."

"Hah! Every shopkeeper in a ten-block radius knows you, you shoplifter!" Tall Kid smirked and leaned against the chains – chains? – wrapped around his chest and arms, binding him to the chair. "And I can't even count how many wallets you've stolen."

"That's a disgusting lie!" Pimp Kid stamped his feet as well as he could considering that his ankles were tied to the legs of his chair. "I never!"

Katsunada glanced at his two lieutenants, intending to ask if the prisoners had been like this all day, but the glazed expression on their faces as they lurked on the far side of the room and watched the back and forth shouting match told him they had.

"You stole mine!"

"Oh." Pimp Kid relaxed for a minute. "I did, didn't I? Shit, man. I thought you'd never notice."

Tall Kid turned bright red and sputtered for a minute. "I wasn't expecting you to do something so underhanded in the middle of a _fight_."

Pimp Kid snorted and leaned back in his chair, slouching against the chains. "Geez, man. It was a streetfight, not some kinda gentlemen's duel. Besides, you were mostly unconscious at that point _anyway_ so I'd say the fight was over."

Tall Kid gaped and blustered, "I was not! I was – I was lulling you into a false sense of security!"

His companion snickered and waggled his eyebrows. "Dude, it worked. By the time I got home after spending all your money, I was _totally_ lulled."

Katsunada took advantage of the temporary lack of shouting and cleared his throat. "Gentlemen?"

Both boys snapped their heads around to glare at him. "What?"

Katsunada gazed pointedly at his two lieutenants. Togashi and Minoru blinked and glanced up as if they'd only just noticed his presence. He frowned and was rewarded with straightened postures and two decidedly more attentive gazes. "Are these," he put a spin on the word, cutting the two boys a contemptuous glance, "the couriers?"

Togashi nodded. "Yeah, it's them. They were right where Hiromu told us to look for 'em, too."

Tall Kid was looking back and forth between them with a confused expression on his face. Pimp Kid had slumped down so far in his seat that he was barely upright, his head resting against the wall behind him. "Are you certain?" Katsunada asked.

His lieutenants exchanged a glance and shrugged.

"Hiromu said the couriers were a couple of gangbangers," Minoru said, "and that they'd be in The Komodo Arcade at quarter past eleven. He even described their uniforms. Blue and green." He jerked a thumb at Tall Kid and Pimp Kid in turn. "They were even on the game he said they'd be on. It's gotta be these two."

"_That_," Pimp Kid said irritably, "is why this is all your fault. I'd never set foot in a dump like the Komodo of my own free will."

"Oh, screw you!" Tall Kid shot back. "No one forced you! You just wanted to steal all my tokens!"

"And the games _sucked_!" Pimp Kid snarled, leaning forward against the chains.

Tall Kid snorted. "Only 'cause I was beating your ass, Urameshi."

Urameshi glowered. "In your dreams, Kuwabara."

Kuwabara glared back. "I've got better things to dream about than your ass, you pervert."

"Why," Katsunada asked, holding up a single finger to draw his lieutenants' attention, "are they chained up?"

"They got out of the ropes," Togashi said with a little shrug.

"And if you weren't too cheap to pay for a new school uniform, we wouldn't be in this mess, so this is all _your_ fault!" Kuwabara wriggled against his restraints as he glared at his companion across the room. "You've been at Sarayashiki for two years! You just wear that uniform to show off how bad-ass you are!"

"Awww." Urameshi smirked and batted his eyes at his companion over the edge of his shades. "You really think I'm bad-ass? I'm touched, man."

"Out of the ropes?" Katsunada repeated, glancing over his shoulder at Togashi. "They attempted to escape?"

"Yeah." Togashi sounded amused. "But they got distracted trying to knock each other's teeth out and we got them again. Minoru figured the chains'd hold them better."

"You're touched all right!" Kuwabara shot back. "In the head!"

Urameshi pulled a face and flicked his fingers – the only thing he could really move, as tightly bound as he was – at the other boy. "Did you think that one up all by yourself or did you have help?"

"Shut up!"

Katsunada stepped between them before Urameshi could respond in kind. "If you cooperate," he said calmly, spreading his hands to show he was – currently – unarmed, "this will all be over very quickly and with no lasting ill effects. You have my word."

He was facing Kuwabara, who stared at him like a stray dog in the headlights of an oncoming car. "Cooperate with what?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Urameshi said from behind him. "He's some kind of creepy sexual pervert."

"_What_?" Kuwabara flattened himself against the back of his chair as if the extra fraction of an inch would save him from whatever terrible fate Katsunada had in store for him.

Katsunada gave Urameshi a disgusted glance over his shoulder. For goodness' sake, he thought. "That is not why I had you brought here. All I need is some information, and then I will be happy to let you go."

"My bloodtype is A negative," Urameshi said. "I like tonburi, porn and zombie movies. My favorite color is hot pink."

Kuwabara grinned at Katsunada. "I'm a Pisces. I like Metallica and Nascar and beating the crap out of Urameshi –"

An outraged shout from behind him made Katsunada sigh. "Oh, as if! You've never done it, so how would you even know!"

Kuwabara paused long enough to lean as far to the side as he could and stick his tongue out.

"That is not the type of information I need," Katsunada said firmly. Where had his rivals _found_ these two? "I know that Masaki Mokoto has been paying you to work as his couriers. I know you were at the Komodo Arcade this morning to pick up a package. I also know that Togashi and Minoru didn't find any package on you when they detained you." He leaned over, bringing himself eye level with Kuwabara, who was just staring at him. "If you tell me where you hid the package, I will let you go."

"Masaki Mokoto?" Urmaeshi asked. "Isn't he one of the minor Yakuza bosses?"

Kuwabara shook his head. "We don't have anything to do with the Yakuza," the boy said. "Even Urameshi wouldn't stoop that low."

Katsunada backhanded the boy casually, pleased that it shut them both up for an instant. "You should speak more kindly of your hosts. What did you do with the package?"

"We weren't there for any package," Kuwabara said, glaring up at him.

Katsunada held out one hand and Togashi, ever the intuitive assistant, dropped a knife into his palm. "And you, Mr. Urameshi? Do you have any more common sense than your partner?"

"Not that I've been told," Urameshi said cheerfully. "And dude, he's not my partner. Punching bag, _maybe_."

Kuwabara actually growled. "Oh, bite me!"

"I'd never get the taste out of my mouth," Urameshi shot back.

Really, he should have expected this show of bravado. These street toughs valued such foolish displays, even though most of them had never been in any fight worse than a schoolyard brawl. They played at being gangsters, but when faced with a genuine Yakuza, they were only too happy to tell everything they knew.

He flipped the knife over the fingers of his hand and caught it by the hilt, noting that Kuwabara was watching the blade. He spun it over his thumb so the blade flashed only a few inches from the boy's eyes. "I am a reasonable man. Tell me where the package is, Mr. Kuwabara, and I'll let you keep all your skin intact."

That earned him a narrow glare and a flicker of uncertainty. But the boy shook his head again. "We didn't have any package. We just went to the Komodo to waste time."

Katsunada flicked the knife against Kuwabara's chest and sent one of the buttons of his school tunic flying.

"So much for not being a pervert," Urameshi said. "If you feel the need to undress Kuwabara, I may puke. Fair warning."

"Togashi," Katsunada said, and a second later he was rewarded with the sound of flesh striking flesh, and Urameshi grunted slightly. "Mr. Urameshi, every time you open your mouth and do not tell me the location of the package I seek I will have Togashi beat you. Is that understood?"

"If I say yes, is that going to count as opening my mouth? Because I'm just answering a question _you_ asked me." He grunted slightly as Togashi hit him again but said nothing else.

Kuwabara snickered but sobered abruptly when Katsunada dug the blade of the knife against his chest. Bare skin showed where he'd cut the tunic open, and he watched blood well up around the edge of the blade. "I really do need to know the location of that package, boys."

"That sucks," Kuwabara said. "For you. We don't have it."

Katsunada sighed and dragged the blade downward slightly. The wound wasn't deep enough to be threatening, but blood ran in a small stream down the boy's chest and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"I am willing to pay for the information," Katsunada said calmly as he withdrew the knife. "I'm sure I can easily double what Masaki is paying you."

"Won't be hard, since he isn't paying us anything," Urameshi said. Katsunada turned to face the boy as Togashi drove his fist into the boy's abdomen, rocking the chair. Urameshi doubled over briefly, as much as the chains would allow and his shades fell to the floor with a clatter. He straightened slowly, and Katsunada was struck with the full effect of the boy's glare. "Listen, dickhead, we're not Yakuza. We don't have your package. And you're really pissing me off."

"I can't tell you how much that bothers me." Katsunada stepped over to Urameshi for a moment and reached out to wipe the blade clean on the boy's shirt. He saw Urameshi's gaze focus on the blood-stained fabric for a moment before the boy turned back to him, his gaze ice-cold. "Don't care for the sight of blood, Mr. Urameshi?"

"I don't care for fuckheads who like to torture people," Urameshi snapped back.

Katsunada held up a hand to stave off Togashi's next blow. "Tell me what I need to know and we'll all be spared any further dramatics."

Urameshi rolled his eyes. "Is it just me, or is this guy actually this stupid?"

"It's not just you," Kuwabara said. "Although you're pretty stupid, too."

"No one _asked_ you."

He was going to have a headache when he was done with these two, he just knew it. Masaki probably only used them because he knew they'd annoy the hell out of anyone who tried to use them against him. "One last chance, boys. Where can I find the package?"

"On the real delivery boys?" Urameshi suggested with a wide, disarming smile.

Katsunada drove the blade hilt-deep into Urameshi's shoulder and watched the boy's face turn gray. "Where is the package?"

"Fuck you," Urameshi gasped. "We don't have it." He flinched as Katsunada pulled the knife out and pressed it against his cheek, cutting a thin line in the skin and letting the blood drip down the side of his face.

Kuwabara struggled against his chains, shouting insults at his back. "We can't tell you where it is because we don't know!"

"Don't waste your breath, Kuwabara." Urameshi was still watching the knife but there was no fear in his eyes, just wariness. "If he hasn't gotten it yet, there's probably no hope for him."

He didn't have time for this. Katsunada grabbed the back of Urameshi's chair and dragged it into the center of the room, ignoring the boy's startled squawk. "If I lose that package, I will be most… _displeased_." He deliberately drew the last word out as he settled the knife against Urameshi's throat. "And I only need _one_ of you to talk." He let the knife break the skin slightly, just enough to draw blood. "Whomever tells me where to find the package first gets to walk out of here alive."

"Hypothetically," Urameshi asked, "if neither one of us tells you where it is – because we don't know – you wouldn't be able to kill either one of us. Right?"

Katsunada grit his teeth. "In that case, Mr. Urameshi, you can decide which one of his fingers your partner loses."

"Okay, I already told you. He is _not_ my partner." Urameshi tipped his head back and Katsunada had to remind himself that the boy was in chains, that _he_ was the one holding the knife, because Urameshi's eyes were hard and dangerous. "But you go after anyone with that knife one more time and I'll break every bone in your hands. You'll be holding that knife in your teeth when I get through with you."

"Is that a fact?" Katsunada pressed the knife harder against the boy's throat, unsettled when Urameshi didn't even flinch. "How will you do that when you're chained to a chair with a knife at your throat?"

"Man," Urameshi said – and was the boy _pouting_? – "I am so telling my mom about this when I get out of here."

Kuwabara snorted.

Katsunada smirked. "It's a harsh lesson all children learn, Urameshi-kun, that their mothers are not the all-powerful beings that they think they are."

"You've obviously never met Atsuko," Kuwabara said. "I mean, she's kind of scary."

Katsunada froze, his fingers suddenly numb where they wrapped around the blade. "Urameshi Atsuko? She's your mother?"

* * *

The Yakuza creeps had been nice enough to untie them and offer to drive them home, though Yuusuke could tell they mostly just wanted to get the hell out of there. He'd turned them down because he didn't want to get in a car with those guys, and also because he was pretty sure Atsuko kept a gun in the house. No point provoking an unpleasant situation. Even if that Katsunada jerk had it coming.

His shoulder throbbed where the jerk had stabbed him, but it was the cut on his cheek that stung the most. He pressed a hand against it thoughtfully and wondered if it'd leave a cool scar.

Kuwabara dropped into step beside him as they left the house. "So, seriously?"

Yuusuke tipped his head sideways and up. "Yeah?"

"What the hell does your mom _do_ for a living, anyway?"

Yuusuke smirked. "Your dad."

Kuwabara groaned. "That's terrible. That's not even original."

"I have no idea," Yuusuke admitted. "She's in tight with the Yakuza, but I don't think she's one of them. My dad probably was," he added.

There were about a half-dozen really obnoxious things Kuwabara could have said to that, and another three or four that would've forced Yuusuke to deck him, but Kuwabara wasn't the kind of guy who'd talk trash about a guy's mom.

"Today was insane," Kuwabara said instead. "The next time you want to cut class, ask Keiko instead."

Yuusuke snorted and dug an elbow into Kuwabara's ribs. "She'd probably have been more use than you were."

Kuwabara spared him a disgusted glance. "Oh, and I suppose threatening to tell your mom on them is your idea of handling things?"

"It worked though," Yuusuke said smugly.

"Well, I'll be sure to mention how you saved the day when Shizuru asks how I got all cut up."

"Hey," Yuusuke protested, because Atsuko was one thing but Shizuru was another entirely. Shizuru could make your eyes bleed just by looking at you. "Maybe we should stop by Genkai's and see if we can talk Yukina into healing us up a little before you have to face your sister."

Kuwabara's face lit up at the mention of Yukina, which was what Yuusuke had been counting on. "Race you!"

"Oh hey! No fair! I've been stabbed!" Yuusuke glared at Kuwabara's back and took off running. "Dirty trick, you bastard! I'm telling Genkai that this was all your fault!"

end

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c&c always appreciated


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